When You Were Mine (Second Chances 2)

Ten minutes later, she found him stretched out on the couch.

She said, “Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. You’re doing it wrong. These are recliners.”

His eyes opened slightly and he said, “I’m not sure I want to move. This is really comfortable.”

“Adjustable. Electric.”

On a deep sigh, he shifted to a sitting position and asked, “How do I control this thing?”

Gesturing to the arm of the couch, she said, “The buttons are right there. It even has a cupholder for the beer.”

Jamie adjusted, then groaned out, “Oh. That’s nice.”

She watched his eyes slip closed with a smirk on her lips and then said, “Make yourself comfortable”

When she was finally able to head back into the living room, he had turned the television on, shifted to his side, and was sleeping peacefully. It gave her the opportunity to take in the faded jeans, and the White Stripes tee that had seen better days. Time had been very kind to Jamie.

His face was relaxed so they weren’t visible, but he was getting just the barest hint of laugh lines. They only added character to his face. She allowed herself another moment to appreciate the way that his arm muscles strained against the sleeves of his shirt before she settled onto the loveseat adjacent to him.

Fifteen minutes later she was startled out of the crime novel that she’d been reading by the oven timer. She looked over toward Jamie, who still lay sleeping peacefully in the recliner. She’d always been amazed at his ability to sleep through any amount of noise. Setting the book down, she moved into the kitchen to take the meatloaf out of the oven.

When dinner was ready, she finally moved to wake him. Gently nudging his shoulder, she softly said, “Dinner’s ready.”

He jumped slightly, then he said, “Oh wow. Sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” as he blinked himself back into wakefulness.

Cora snickered and said, “That sink was heavy. You’re getting up there in years. I totally get it. You need your rest.”

As he leaned forward, he flipped her the bird, then stretched his shoulders and said, “I’m only three years older than you are, Cora.”

“An important three,” she said as she turned around to head back into the kitchen.

“Smart ass.” A moment later, he followed and said, “That looks amazing. Smells even better.”

After they had settled down at her kitchen table with dinner, Cora finally asked, “So, tell me about this bet you lost?”

Jamie shook his head and said, “You lasted longer than I thought you would.”

“I’ve learned to be more patient. Now, spill.”

He arched an eyebrow and said, “Oh yeah. I can totally see that.”

Cora went on impulse and stuck her tongue out at him.

A grin spread across Jamie’s face as he said, “Mature.”

“Stop stalling.”

“Okay. So do you remember Dave Martell? You met him a couple of times at work things?”

“Dark-haired guy, kinda sleazy?”

Jamie blinked in surprise at her assessment and said, “Yeah. That describes him to a tee, actually.”

“He hit on me once while you were in the bathroom. It was awkward,” Cora said. “The Christmas party at that little vineyard in Simi Valley.”

“Why didn’t you ever say anything?” Jamie asked, curious.

“I was so gone over you at that point,” Cora answered. “It was kind of sad that he even thought he had a chance.”